


the love i sell you in the evening (by the morning won't exist)

by theyellowumbrella



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, Gen, but definitely there!!, the vanity is kinda mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:23:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyellowumbrella/pseuds/theyellowumbrella
Summary: Charity tells Noah about her past.





	the love i sell you in the evening (by the morning won't exist)

**Author's Note:**

> JFGDKSFDSFMG i hope this is alright !!! this is for u emily, ur the best and i love u and thank u so much for going thru this w me and being my #1 stan
> 
> just a Note: noah goes through a lot of Emotions in this fic, and does get upset w charity about her past as a prostitute (although i think he does definitely have a good view on the situation, he's just upset about the revelation) but he's like. respectful throughout i think (i HOPE???)
> 
> anyway sex workers are good people and they aren't inherently bad for being sex workers and if u disagree then this isn't the fic for u lmao
> 
> (warning for allusions and vague references to charity being abused when she was working as a prostitute)

Things have been weird for weeks.

First of all, there was all that stuff with Debbie’s new boyfriend buying Sarah an expensive new phone. He’d thought it was strange — even if he was rich, they’d barely been going out five minutes. It was easy enough to write off, though — in his experience with rich people, which is quite a lot considering his mum always makes sure that his stepparents are loaded, they like to splash their cash on everything they can, just so people know they have it.

Then, obviously there was the whole reveal that actually, he wasn’t even a bloke called Tom, but Noah’s half-brother. That was weird all on its own. Noah’s still not too sure how he feels about it, to be honest; he didn’t even really get a minute to think it over before his mum was dashing any hopes of him ever having any semblance of a relationship with him.

And it’s not that he even  _ wants _ a relationship with him — sure, they have the same dad, but Noah never even met the guy, so as far as he’s concerned they’re not really brothers in anything else but name. He’s got enough on his hands as it is with his mess of a sister and the little brother that he rarely sees, he could really do without the stress of having a psycho half-brother out for revenge. If anything, he just wants his mum to give him the option of having a relationship with him, but if he really is as awful as they all tell him, he guesses it must be for his own good.

Debbie and Sarah have been moping about the pub for days on end now and it’s really starting to get on his wick. He gets it, having your boyfriend turn out to be your nutter of an ex-stepbrother is an awful way to ring in the new year, but there’s no need for Debbie to be holing herself up in the spare room, listening to Adele songs and wailing loudly. Him and Sarah have been tasked with keeping Jack entertained while Charity tries to do something, anything, about this whole Joe thing, but in Noah’s opinion, someone should probably be paying more attention to keeping Debbie away from any high ledges.

That’s not all, though. It feels like there’s something they’re not saying, something that they’re all purposely keeping from him. Too many times now has he walked into a room only for all conversation to immediately cease, and then for his mum to start talking about something else, far too loud and cheery for it to be natural.

Another strange thing — for the past week or so, Zak and Lisa have been taking them and picking them all up from school. Every morning Lisa’s been in the pub, ushering them out of the door and into the car in that loving way that she does best, and every night they’re waiting on them getting out. He’s not sure why they’re doing it, to be honest, but he’s not going to ask and risk cocking up a good thing — everyone that gets the bus is a right knob, and why would he pass up a much shorter ride with his family in favour of one with a bunch of people he can’t stand?

Today, though. Today is different. Usually Zak and Lisa put the effort in to chat with them all — ask about their days, what classes they had, whether or not they enjoyed it — but today, they’re just speaking to each other in hushed whispers. Jack doesn’t seem to have noticed, happily distracted by some game on Sarah’s phone, but Sarah obviously has if the side-eyes she’s giving Noah mean anything.

He can’t really make out what they’re saying, except that he’s hearing a lot of Joe this and Joe that, and a bit of Chris, and a lot of his mum’s name. It doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure out that they’re trying to make sure he doesn’t overhear something about his half-brother that Charity doesn’t want him knowing.

He does, however, hear it when Zak raises his voice just a little too loud and he’s able to make out something about  _ Charity _ and  _ sold herself _ and  _ his dad. _ That certainly piques his interest. After that, Lisa seems to remember that they’re all in hearing distance, and smacks him on the arm, widening her eyes and not so discreetly nodding towards the back seats.

By the time they get to the pub and Zak and Lisa wave them goodbye, Noah feels like he’s been over it a hundred times. He knows what it  _ sounded _ like — his mum selling herself. But that can’t be true, can it? He’s sure he would have known if his own mum had been a prostitute. People in this village can’t keep their gobs shut, and nobody’s ever held back slagging her off in front of him, so why would this be any different? Surely this would have been juicier gossip than anything else they could have said.

Charity’s behind the bar when they get in. Sarah takes Jack through to the back room, saying something about a cartoon that starts in five minutes, but Noah hangs about in the pub. He takes a seat at the bar and waits for her to stop serving the people that are waiting.

While he waits, he observes the way that after every drink his mum serves, she somehow finds herself drifting back towards Vanessa, who’s sitting at the corner of the bar. Every time it doesn’t look as if they’re saying much — sometimes, they’re just exchanging a look or a laugh — but she always floats back without fail, almost as if they’re attached by a tether and she can’t go too far without being pulled back.

He’s been wondering for a while now when she’ll actually tell him about her new relationship. He’s known for ages now, would be hard not to with how bad at subtlety they are — they’re always chatting about something, and he’s constantly hearing Vanessa trying to sneak in and out when she thinks everyone’s asleep — but he’s decided to play it cool, not ask anything until she feels like letting him know. It’s not that big a deal, really, and if she makes his mum happy, then he’s not fussed.

Eventually, she must spot him, because she excuses herself from her conversation with Vanessa to come over and speak to him. She starts pouring him a coke almost automatically, smiling at him while she reaches for the glass.

“Hiya, babe,” she says, sliding the glass across the bar. “What are you doing through here? Thought you’d be up in that room of yours as soon as you got in. Feels like I’ve not seen you in weeks.”

“Yeah, well, sorry if I don’t feel like spending quality family time with Debbie right now,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I know she’s my sister, but there’s only so much loud crying a guy can take.”

She smacks him lightly in the arm, but he can see that she’s biting back a smile. He hates that it makes him so happy, to know that he can still make her laugh like this, but it’s the truth. If he’s being honest, more than anything he misses the relationship they used to have. They were so close, it truly felt like it was just them against the world, and then there was all that with Declan and prison and her refusing to see him and —

Well. It just got to the point where he felt like he didn’t even recognise his own mum anymore. He didn’t really feel like she wanted him around, more like he was a spare part that was dragging her down, and it definitely didn’t help that he had a brand new little brother and all she could talk about was Debbie this, Debbie that, Debbie and the kids are all that’s important.

But she’s been trying lately. He can see that. He thinks a lot of it probably has to do with the new presence in her life and how devoted to being a mum Vanessa seems to be, and maybe a bit to do with the fact that her ex-stepson’s shown up on the scene and blamed her for ruining his life, but whatever reasons she has, she’s been trying. And she’s his mum, and he loves her more than anything, so he’s willing to forgive her — although he’s not sure how many more chances 

he’s got left in him if she messes this one up again.

“So, what’s up?” she asks, leaning forward on the bar a little.

“Erm, well, I need to ask you something but … but not here.”

Worry washes over her face. She rests her hand on his arm, brows knitting together. “Why? Everything’s alright, isn’t it?” Quickly, she goes from worried to panicked. “Oh, God. Joe’s not reached out to you, has he? He’s not tried to get in touch?”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “It’s nothing to do with that. It’s just — can we go sit in a booth or sommat?”

“Erm, yeah, just … here, Ness, can you look after the bar for five minutes?”

Vanessa looks up, bewildered, clearly shocked at being called upon. “What?”

“It’s just for five minutes, while me and Noah have a chat.” She widens her eyes at Vanessa and mouths  _ please _ at her.

“Charity, I —”

“ _ Please. _ ”

Vanessa looks like she’s about to argue, but instead just lets out a sigh and gets out of her seat, making her way around the bar. “Fine. But my next drink is on you.”

“‘Course, babe.” 

Charity beams at her and directs Noah to the nearest booth, sitting opposite him. She smiles at him. “So, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says. “I don’t think, anyway. I just heard Zak and Lisa talking earlier and — I thought I heard them say something about you selling yourself? Like … y’know.  _ Selling _ yourself.”

Noah knows as soon as he sees her reaction that it’s true. Her face completely falls, and exposes all of the emotions that she usually keeps hidden away. He feels bad when he sees her, sees how upset she gets, and almost wishes that he hadn’t asked in the first place, but something inside of him shifts.

It’s not that he’s  _ mad _ at her — no, it’s not anger he feels. He’s not quite sure what it is. He’s upset, he knows that much, but he doesn’t know who with. His mum, for not telling him; his mum, for  _ doing _ that; all the men that paid for her to do that.

Realisation crashes onto him like a sack of bricks. “That was how you met my dad, wasn’t it?” He swallows the lump in his throat. “That was the ‘business’ you did.”

“Noah, I — I can explain,” she says, words tumbling out of her mouth in a frantic rush. He can see it written all over her face — the panic that she always gets. He can practically see her battling with the fight or flight response, trying so desperately to pick fight. It’s always the same with her.

“Okay. Explain,” he says. His voice sounds distant, he knows, and he doesn’t want to upset her any more than she obviously is, but there’s a part of him that doesn’t want her to upset him, either, and she already has.

“Well, alright, I … I was just a kid. My mum and dad, they — they kicked me out after I got pregnant with Debs, and there wasn’t anything else I could have done.”

He scoffs. It comes out without meaning to, and as soon as he hears it he regrets it, because he can see the way his mum’s face crumples, but he doesn’t do anything to try and rectify it. “I’m sure there was.”

“No, babe, there wasn’t.” Tears are welling in her eyes, but she blinks them back, trying desperately not to let them spill down her face. “If there was, trust me, I would have done it. I didn’t want to. I didn’t have a job, or a place to stay.”

“You could have stayed with Uncle Zak,” he suggests, even though he doesn’t know, not really. Mum never talks about her past — obviously for a reason — so he doesn’t know how close they were, or how close they lived, or any of that. “Or - or with Cain, or … I don’t know,  _ anyone. _ I mean, this family’s massive. Surely you could have found someone.”

She wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. “Babe, you have to understand, I never saw Uncle Zak. I don’t think he even knew they’d kicked me out — not at the start, anyway. And I couldn’t have stayed with Cain, you know I couldn’t.”

“You saw him enough to get pregnant, you could have stayed with him.”

She laughs, a choked little sound that breaks Noah’s heart, and shakes her head. “No. No, babe. Cain didn’t know I’d had a baby until she turned up and showed him a photo of me saying I was her mum.”

“You didn’t have to tell him it was his,” he protests.

“He would have figured it out.”

“He’s not that smart.”

She laughs again, although this time it’s a little more genuine. “God, give him some credit.”

They sit in silence after that, because Noah doesn’t know what to do. He knows what he’s  _ meant _ to say — that it’s okay, that he doesn’t care, that it doesn’t matter to him — but he doesn’t want to lie to her, either. It’s not that he thinks it’s her fault, because as upset as he is, he knows it wasn’t, it’s just that —

That’s his  _ mum. _ The woman who raised him, the woman who used to tuck him in at night, the one person that he’d do anything for. The thought of all those men doing …  _ that _ to her, for money, makes him feel dirty.

The thought that  _ his dad _ did that to her. That that’s the kind of man that his dad was, that he has that inside of him forever. He doesn’t know how his mum lives with it — with  _ him. _ He must be like a constant reminder, a constant slap in the face, dragging her back to those days.

And he wants to comfort her, he does, because he can see her hurting, can feel himself aching to reach out and hug her and tell her that she’ll always be his mum and he’ll always be her little boy and that none of it matters to him.

But instead, he says, “I can’t do this right now,” and leaves.

“Noah!” she calls after him, but he ignores it. He rushes past Vanessa, ignoring her inquisitive looks, and walks straight through the backroom and storms up the stairs without stopping to speak to Sarah or Jack.

He lies back on his bed and thinks it through for a good hour. He doesn’t know what to think of it all, to be honest. It makes him feel sick — that his mum would do that, that his mum would  _ have _ to do that. He hates his grandparents, hates them with a burning passion that he didn’t know he possessed. It doesn’t make sense to him, how they could just kick their child out — their unborn  _ grandchild  _ — and not once look back.

He imagines her homeless, shivering on a street corner somewhere with nothing to her name. He knows what the world’s like,  _ knows _ that there are men that would prey on her. He hates that she had to do it, that she had to go along with it to survive.

He hates Cain for doing that to her, for getting her in that situation. He knows that they were … well, maybe not  _ together, _ but that it was at least something they both wanted, but it makes his stomach tighten all the same. It just doesn’t seem fair that he got her pregnant and she ended up on the streets while he got to live blissfully unaware for years.

Eventually, his door opens, and Debbie comes in. She takes a seat on the foot of his bed and gives him a soft smile. It’s the gentlest she’s looked in, well,  _ years  _ really, but weeks especially. “Hey,” she says.

“Mum send you?” he asks, accompanied by an exhausted sigh.

She rolls her eyes in that affectionate Debbie way that he’s missed so much, and shakes her head. “ _ No. _ She didn’t want me to come up, actually, but I thought I should.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my little brother and I thought you might want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at her. “The fact that our mum was a prostitute that my dad paid for or the fact that my brother is out to ruin her life because of it and dragged you into it?”

“ _ Half _ brother,” she corrects.

“What, like you’re my half sister?”

She sighs. “So, she wasn’t lying when she said you took it bad, then.”

“Did you not?”

Her face softens. She shuffles up the bed, scooting up beside him and resting her head on the headboard behind them. “Yeah, ‘course I did. I mean … it’s a shock, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“But you can’t be mad at her,” she says. “It wasn’t her fault. I mean, she was thirteen, pregnant, homeless. If anything, you should be mad at  _ me. _ ”

“How? Wasn’t like you asked to be born.”

“And it wasn’t like she asked to be forced into selling herself either.” Noah doesn’t know how to argue that, so he stays quiet.  Debbie sighs, as if she’s reluctant to say the next thing, but carries on. “It was awful for her. I mean, there were a lot of things, but … she was abused, Noah. It wasn’t her fault.”

He stares at the roof for a good few minutes before he answers. “I hate it. That she had to do that.” He pauses. “That … that he did that to her. My dad, I mean.”

“I know.”   


“I mean — if he was so awful, and Joe’s come out so awful, then what does that mean for me? Having him as a dad?”

“ _ Noah, _ ” Debbie says firmly. She turns and looks him dead in the eyes. “You are  _ nothing _ like him, okay? I promise.”

“No, but - but I still could be. I mean … Joe was normal once, wasn’t he? He was a normal teenager, just like me.”

Debbie shrugs. She looks so sad, so unbelievably sad. It makes Noah feel like someone’s reached into his chest and ripped his heart right out. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t know him when he was your age. I didn’t really know him at all.”

She wraps her arm around his shoulder, pulling him against her in a hug. She squeezes his shoulder and rests her face on the top of his head, pressing a kiss to it. “I know that it’s hard, okay? But you have to cut her some slack. It wasn’t her fault.”

“I know,” he says. “But … but my dad hired her, didn’t he? That’s how they met.”

“Mm.”

“And she wasn’t a teenager then. She was an adult, she - she lived here. She didn’t have to do it then.”

“Yeah, well … it was complicated. It was all she knew by then, wasn’t it?”

He mulls it over for a minute. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Debbie smiles and ruffles his hair. “You know I love you, right?”

He sighs, but he can’t help the smile that fights its way onto his face. “You’re so soft.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t let anybody else hear you saying that. I have a reputation to uphold, y’know.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Will you do me a favour then?” she asks. “Since I’m the best big sister in the world?”

“Depends.”

“Go and put Mum out of her misery,  _ please. _ She’s in bits ‘cause she thinks you hate her. She’s convinced you’re gonna try and stay at Grandad’s and Lisa’s.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes again like it’s a grievance, but slides off the bed. “Close the door on your way out, then.”

He walks down to the pub, where he finds Charity standing behind the bar. She’s slumped over it, chin rested in her hand, while she talks to Vanessa. Vanessa looks worried, and her hand is rested on Charity’s arm like she’s trying to comfort her. It doesn’t really look like it’s doing much, but Charity at least looks grateful for the effort. It’s such an intimate scene, he almost feels like he’s intruding, but he knows that if he backs out now then he’ll never speak to her.

He’s about to call on her when Vanessa spots him. She smiles and nudges Charity, nodding her head over Charity’s shoulder towards him, standing by the door. When she turns around, her eyes are red and her face is blotchy and Noah just feels so horrid.

“Noah,” she says, voice cracking in the middle so it comes out all wobbly.

“Hi,” he says, all of a sudden far too aware of everyone surrounding them. He shoves his hands in his pockets awkwardly, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with her because he knows if he does he’ll see how sad she looks and his guilt will increase tenfold. “Sorry I ran off.”

“No, no, it’s … it’s okay, babe. I know it’s — well, it’s a lot to process.”

He shrugs, curling in on himself. “Yeah, but - but I’m not mad at you. I mean — I’m upset. I don’t like that you had to do that. But I’m not mad.”

She looks so relieved, so utterly shocked that he doesn’t hate her. She rushes forward and gathers him in her arms, wrapping him in a hug so tight he can barely breathe. It’s the kind of affection she hasn’t shown him in years — it feels almost foreign to him, the way that her hand comes up to cup his head, how she keeps him held so close to her.

She used to be so affectionate when he was little, always hugging him and telling him how much she loved him, and then one day it was like it just stopped. Just like she’d turned a tap off, her shows of affection stopped altogether, unless something really bad had happened.

It’s nice, being hugged by her again. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course — he’s thirteen, he’d rather be caught dead than admit he still likes a cuddle from his mum — but being back in her arms makes him feel almost … safe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she says into his hair, so muffled he can barely make it out. “I just … I just wanted to protect you. From me. From your dad.”

“It’s alright,” he says when she lets go of him.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. Her hand comes up to her hair, smoothing it over, running her fingers through it. She cups his cheek, smiling when he squirms away, and pulls him back into a side-hug, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. She kisses the side of his head and keeps her arm wrapped tightly around him. “No, it isn’t. I should have told you.”

“It’s fine,” he protests. “Honest. You thought you were doing the right thing.”

“Yeah, well — he was your dad, yeah? And you deserve to - to know about him. Even the bad bits.” She furrows her brow, and shrugs a little. “Okay, well, it’s mostly bad bits, but still.”

He smiles. “Don’t think I really want to know much more.”

“Fair enough, babe.” She moves away from him, keeping her arm wrapped around his shoulder but her head at a distance. “You’re really not mad then?”

He shakes his head. “No. Not at you, anyway.” When she raises an eyebrow, he expands. “Only at him, and all those men that hurt you, and at my dad and Joe.”

“Oh, Noah.”

“I don’t need them, though,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

She pulls him back against her, kissing the side of his head once more. “I still don’t deserve you.”

He can barely bite back his smile. It feels almost like an inside joke between them now. “I still know,” he replies, and positively glows when she laughs and ruffles his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> speak to me on tumblr pls!!! i love hearing feedback and being Validated - noahdingles.tumblr.com


End file.
